Chapter Text
January in the Outer Banks always felt weird. Like it was cold but in a North Carolina way. Like the weather outside couldn’t decide if it wanted to freeze you from the inside out or just piss you off to no end because it was actually too cold to surf even you could afford a wet suit (which JJ could not) but it rarely ever got cold enough for snowstorms or blizzards or anything cool like that. There were no snow days off school for the kids of Kildare County. No snowball fights by the pier or snow forts by the sand dunes. But it was cold enough to bite its way under JJ's hoodie and settle deep inside his chest.
JJ pulled his sleeves over his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to shake the chill that always found its way through the cracks in the drywall of the house and into the kitchen of their half-torn down place by the marsh. The sun was barely above the island, but JJ had been up for hours because today was going to be good. Because after months of work, sneaking tools from his dad's kit, tinkering with the motor and patching the holes in the siding, they’d finally got the HMS Pogue up and running for real this time. They installed the new spark plugs Big John got John B for Christmas, the duct tape was finally holding the cracks in the hull and for once the motor didn’t sound like it was actively dying. She was barely seaworthy and probably one too-big swell from sinking...again, but to them it was freedom. Something to take them wherever they wanted to go whenever they wanted to go there. JJ could already picture themselves tearing through the marsh, finally able to get all the way to Kiara’s house on the other side of the island without a 20 minute bike ride or begging Heyward for a lift.
They had the whole day planned.
A day fighting off the cold air over the water and later a bonfire to warm them up. Pope would bring the expired bags of chips his dad couldn’t sell that he always swore were still good and Kiara would bring shit for smores. They’d sit too close to the fire, burning their fingers while roasting marshmallows with whatever sticks they could find and pretend like nothing in the world could touch them.
JJ lived for days like this.
So just as the sun finally started creeping up, JJ pulled his hood over his head, shoved the lighter Kiara got him for Christmas in his pocket, swung the door open, already ready to head out when...
“JJ!”
His heart sank at those two little letters and that’s all it took. Luke’s voice, not yelling, but it had that edge. The one that made JJ’s gut twist, that made every muscle in his body lock up. JJ didn’t even turn around. He just stood there like an idiot with the door open, breathing in the cold air like it could numb what came next.
“I need an extra set of hands today.”
There it was.
JJ looked down at his sneakers but all he could see was the marsh in his head, the sun hitting the water, John B steering them with a dumb smile on his face. He could almost feel it, what it would be like to be out there, away from everything, wind in his face and nothing in his way. Total freedom, finally somewhere where no one could reach him, somewhere where no one whispered about his reputation or worse, pitied him for what he'd "been through".
But it was all slipping away now, and fast. He didn’t look his dad in the eye.
“Me and John B were…” he started, way too soft.
But Luke stepped into the doorway, blocking him from the outside world, eyes narrowing down at him. “You trying to say you got plans, boy?”
JJ didn’t respond.
Luke smirked. “That’s cute,” he said, slow. “You think I give a damn about your little playdate? Get in the truck.”
And just like that it was officially over. There was no arguing when it came to Luke and a job.
JJ let out a breath, short and shaky and followed his father out the door and to the truck, quickly typing out an excuse on his phone to the pogue group chat. He didn’t say another word. He didn’t ask what the job was. Whether it was hauling junk or scrubbing at a boat engine that was better off at the scrape yard or just standing there so Luke had someone to bark at…it didn’t matter. JJ just sat on the cab bench, shoulders hunched and chest heavy. That buzzing excitement in his veins was long gone, replaced by nothing but the brisk chill in the air, the way it wrapped itself around his heart and wouldn't let go.
The marsh would still be there tomorrow, right?
He just had to make it through today.
...
JJ stared out the window as the road turned from concrete to gravel, gravel to dirt and then dirt to half-slushed mud that kicked up in chunks and splattered across the hood of the truck with each turn. JJ sat stiff in the passenger side, arms crossed tight over his chest. He still didn’t ask where they were going and Luke still didn’t offer up any information. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. His body ached more than it had in a while since the temperatures dropped, every joint was sore like he’d slept on solid ground for a week straight and his head ached constantly in a way he just couldn’t shake. It was probably residual from the flu he had around Christmas…or maybe the bronchitis he had the month before that…or the time he was in the hospital in August or maybe even something new he picked up from who the hell knows where.
Since ‘the incident’ that he didn’t like to think much about, it had been one thing after another…a fever, a cough, a stomach bug. His immune system was shit which meant he still felt like shit. But there was nothing he could do about that now. He just had to ride it out and quit whining about it and hope that maybe someday things would get better.
The truck suddenly skidded around a tiny bend JJ didn’t recognize and stopped at an old dock and waiting at the edge like something out of JJ’s bad dreams was Barracuda Mike, leaning against a stack of crusty crates, cigarette hanging out from his mouth. He was the kind of guy who smiled at funerals and drank straight trash moonshine for fun. JJ had only seen him a few times before, but it was enough to know Mike wasn’t the type of dude you messed around with.
Luke parked and climbed out like it was just another day, slamming the door and muttering something JJ didn’t catch under his breath. JJ knew he was supposed to follow but he hesitated for half a second before jumping down from the truck seat. The second he closed the door behind him, the wind smacked him in the face, sharp and salty, cutting straight to his ribs and he instantly regretted leaving his jacket behind.
“Seriously, Luke?” Mike’s voice rang out. He didn’t look at JJ, just gestured towards him with the lit cigarette. “You said you’d bring help. Not a damn boy scout. What is he, eleven?”
JJ stiffened. “I’m thirteen,” he said defensively.
Mike snorted, shaking his head. “Thirteen going on ninety pounds soaking wet.”
Luke didn’t laugh but he sure as hell didn’t defend him either. “Just shut it and get the crates loaded,” he barked as he jerked his head toward the fishing boat docked nearby. “Start hauling.”
JJ looked at the crates. They weren’t small and for sure did not look light. It definitely wasn’t fishing gear or supplies. The top had a faded stamp in a language JJ didn’t recognize. Something buzzed in his brain. Whatever this was…it sure didn’t feel legal. He hesitated and looked at his father.
“You deaf?” Luke snapped.
So put his head down JJ moved like some damn puppy that got slapped with a newspaper.
He gripped the edge of one of the crates, his arms already shaking the moment he lifted the weight of it. But he shifted the crate in his hands anyway, the rough edges biting into his palm and staggered under the heaviness but didn’t dare drop it. Luke was watching him, every stumble, every grunt, JJ could feel it. That look he had. Like JJ wasn’t worth it. Like he was a burden. Like just him being there, trying to help, was an inconvenience.
Mike watched him too. He chuckled under his breath, “Your kid’s gonna snap in half, Luke.”
JJ grit his teeth and just kept moving.
Crate to boat. Back to crate. Back to the boat. Over and over.
His arms burned, fingers cold and achy, breath coming out in sharp huffs in the cold air. He shivered hard, legs shaking, but didn’t stop. Because if he did, Luke would lose his damn mind and make him regret it. Because if he did, Mike would look at him with that stupid smirk again like he just proved him right. And he didn’t want to prove Mike right. He didn’t want to prove Luke right. He didn’t want to prove anyone right.
He wanted to prove himself instead…that he wasn't weak, he wasn’t some cracked little kid or a baby.
So JJ blinked hard against the cold and picked up another crate. He could handle it. He always handles it. He was so sick of people acting like he was gonna break any second. Like one wrong word would shatter him. But he’s not made of glass. He’s not a problem. He’s not just some sick kid who needs pity.
He’s just…JJ.
Small? Yeah, maybe.
Stupid? Couldn't disagree with that one.
Sick? All the fucking time.
But here, now, he just had to prove he could fight someone twice his size if he had to. He’d been doing it his whole life after all. So he’d keep doing it or he’d die trying. And yeah, maybe deep down. Like way, way down, where he didn’t let anyone look. JJ still kind of hoped his dad would see him like this. Working his ass off. Not whining. Not running away or hiding. Just pushing through. Being tough. Being a man. And maybe Luke would think, even for just one second:
Damn Jay. Nice work.
Even if JJ knew better. Knew he never would. JJ wanted to at least try.
But the wind kept picking up and JJ’s sweatshirt was soaked through with sweat and spray from the ocean. His arms felt like jelly and his legs somehow felt even worse. Every crate felt heavier than the last, like someone was adding weight to them when he had his back turned. And then the dizziness started. At first just the little floaty feeling JJ was pretty much used to by now, like his head wasn’t screwed on quite right. He blinked hard and kept going, clenching his jaw against the spots in the corners of his vision. He thought maybe if he moved faster, he’d be done sooner…simple enough of a plan right. But it only made things worse. Because before he knew it the sky twisted a little when he looked up. The dock tilted under his feet when he stepped back from the boat. But then the ringing started in his ears. Then his legs buckled just enough that he had to grip onto the wooden railing to steady himself. He sucked in a deep breath, lungs refusing to fill right. His fingers had gone kind of numb too, which probably wasn’t a great sign but...
“You taking a nap, princess?” Luke snapped from behind him.
JJ didn’t answer, just shook his head to straighten out his vision and turned back toward the dock. He could still feel Luke’s eyes on him, though, that sharp disappointed look that said you’re not enough and you never have been. So JJ straightened up and set his jaw, chest out. He’d take it one crate at a time. He bent down to grab the next one and the moment he lifted it, white-hot pain shot across his ribs. He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood but he kept going. The boat rocked as he stepped onto it. He stumbled just a little, the crate shifting just a bit.
“Get you shit together,” Luke shouted at him.
JJ flinched, adjusted the weight, got it down and then stepped back on the dock like nothing happened. But the entire world was spinning now, the dock slanted completely under his feet. He swayed, catching himself, trying to breathe slow but Mike was watching him now too. Amused, almost, like he’d bet money on JJ fucking this up. JJ didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. He refused to actually. So he bent down for another crate and this is when his vision fully tunneled, black spots dancing at the edges of his mind. He grabbed the sides of the next crate anyway. It felt heavier yet and his legs shook. His breath rattled in his chest but he lifted it anyways.
Just a few more. Just a few more and he could be done and maybe, just maybe, Luke wouldn’t look at him for the rest of the night. Maybe he could sneak out and catch the others at the chateau before Pope and Kie’s curfew.
But JJ only made it halfway before everything around him went completely sideways.
His vision fuzzed out, black creeping in just a little more until suddenly everything went dark, his knees gave out from underneath him and his grip slipped.
Shit.
The crate fell out of his hands before he had the chance to correct it and it slammed against the dock with a loud crack. The corner split open, just enough for the contents inside to spill out across the wood. JJ hit the dock hard, blinking fast as the world flickered back into focus. His stomach rolled. His head pounded. But it wasn’t the fall that made him freeze. It was what was lying in front of him. Little packets of white powder, small, sealed, and plastic. The kind that didn’t come from any grocery store. He didn’t know what was in them exactly, but he wasn't that dumb and knew sure as hell it wasn’t the splenda he spent his summers re-stocking at The Wreck.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, boy?” Luke’s voice cracked as he hustled towards the mess.
JJ didn’t even have time to move. He just stared at the crate, heart pounding, cold chill sneaking up his spine. Then Luke was right there, hand clamping down on his forearm so hard it made JJ flinch back instinctually.
“What the hell did you do?”
“I…I didn’t mean to, Dad. I…I'm sorry, I didn’t…”
His voice broke in the way he hated, catching halfway out his throat. Then Luke yanked him backward, dragging him up. But at the same second JJ's boot caught on some coiled rope left on the dock and he stumbled, losing his balance.
But Luke didn’t let go. And JJ went down hard, the sound hitting him before the pain did.
A hard snap, right in his father’s hand.
It was a second delay until the pain hit him full-force like fire, white-hot and screaming and he cried out, back slamming against the dock as he collapsed in on himself, Luke finally letting go. JJ clutched his arm tight to his chest. Then promptly turned his head and puked, right there on the dock before he could stop himself.
It was clear something was really wrong.
His arm didn’t feel like part of him anymore. It hung wrong. It looked wrong too, bent at a sickening angle. The pain throbbed in sick waves like it had its own pulse. Luke stood over him, staring down like he wasn’t sure what to do. For a second, JJ thought maybe. Maybe this was the time. Maybe he’d finally care.
“Goddamn it,” Luke muttered, shaking his head. “You always gotta screw everything up.”
JJ couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. All he could do was breathe through his teeth and try not to pass out but the dock swayed under him. The world around him shrunk to nothing but the pain and the sharp shame crawling up his neck like dead weight. Then, suddenly Barracuda Mike came flying down the dock.
“Dammit!” he shouted. “I said you shouldn’t have brought that fucking kid!”
His voice cut through the air and JJ flinched from where he knelt, still curled around his arm, trying to breathe through the pain and pull himself together.
“He’s thirteen, Mike. Not three,” Luke snapped.
Mike stormed closer. “Yeah, well, your thirteen year old just dropped thirty grand worth of product on my dock!”
Luke rounded on him. “Maybe if you didn’t stack the heavy ones at the end like you always do, you stupid son of a--"
“Get him the hell out of here,” Mike barked, jabbing a finger toward JJ before Luke could finish. “Before he fucks up anything else.”
Luke’s face twisted and he turned and stomped towards JJ.
JJ tried desperatly to get up, vision still swimming, arm cradled against his chest but the pain was somehow only getting worse
“Get up, boy,” Luke snapped.
JJ tried again, really, really tried, but his knees shook and the movement jolted his arm, a fresh stab of pain shooting towards his elbow. He gasped and stumbled but Luke didn’t wait. He grabbed JJ by his hood and pulled him upright in an instant like he weighed nothing.
And JJ couldn’t stop the noise that escaped him-- this pitiful little yelp like a half-muffled, high-pitched sob. His face fully flushed with embarrassment. Luke didn’t notice, or he just didn’t care.
“This is exactly why I don’t bring you places. You’re useless. You had one job.”
JJ tried to respond but the words got caught in his throat. He blinked hard, tried again, “Dad…uh…I think my arm…”
“Save it,” Luke growled, dragging him toward the truck. “You think I don’t see this crap? You’re always pulling this shit, screwing up and expecting me to feel sorry for you.”
“That’s not…” JJ winced, stumbling along, his arm throbbing harder with every step.
“You think I don’t pick up on the act by now?” Luke snapped. “Little limp, big sad eyes like your mama, hoping I let you off the hook. It’s pathetic. You may have everyone else wrapped around your finger but not me!"
He shoved JJ toward the truck, opening the passenger door hard enough to rattle the hinges. JJ tried to climb up one handed, his broken arm bumping against the seat. The pain was so sharp it made him see stars and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out again. Luke slammed the door behind him, muttering a string of curses. Then he got behind the wheel and peeled down the muddy road.
JJ slumped against the window, face pale and hair clinging to his forehead already damp with a cold sweat. The world outside blurred past while his body ached and his arm felt like it was burning. The truck rattled down the road and every pot hole sent a fresh jolt through his bones. JJ pressed his forehead against the cold glass window, trying to stay quiet, trying not to throw up. The cold helped a little. He watched as the breath fogged up the window in little bursts and he counted them to distract himself.
One. Two. Three.
The pain was fully there now, from his elbow, and down to his fingers. He kept his good hand clamped tight around it, almost afraid if he let go, it might just fall off, even though he was old enough now to know it wouldn’t.
‘Nice job, JJ,’ he thought bitterly. ‘Real smooth.’
He should’ve known better. Should have lifted with his legs or something. He should have seen the crate slipping before it dropped. He should’ve been stronger. He was always messing things up, ruining John B’s good time while his dad was away, the party Kie had planned for his birthday.
God…he couldn’t even carry a couple of crates without wrecking it.
This job was important. It meant money and money meant the heat would come back on and that there might even be food in the fridge for a day or two or at least it meant there would be enough beer for Luke to be in a okay mood for once.
But he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Couldn’t stay out of trouble. Hell, he couldn’t even stay healthy for more than a day or two. He was either bruised, broken or burning up from the inside out. His body hated him first but his dad wasn’t really all that far behind.
He wasn’t going to make it on the boat tomorrow, was he?
John B would probably wait around for a while before realizing JJ wasn’t coming.
Then he’d go without him, because what was the point?
JJ would just slow things down anyway. He was the one always bring extra weight. The dead weight. His eyes stung and he blinked fast and swallowed hard, digging the thumb nail of his good hand into his palm. Anything to distract him from the pain and the tears forming in his eyes.
Because he wouldn’t cry. No way. Not here. Not in front of Luke real-men-dont-cry Maybank.
But then they hit a bump and pain shot up from his arm like someone had lit a fuse and he couldn’t help but cry out, curling tighter against the door.
That was when Luke finally looked over.
JJ felt the shift in his eyes before he heard him.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?”
JJ didn’t answer. Just kept his face towards the window. T
hen Luke noticed.
The way JJ was clutching his arm. The way his face had gone pale and damp. How his eyes were glassy and his breath was short and ragged.
For a second, a tiny second, Luke’s mouth tightened. His eyes flicked to JJ’s arm, then back to the road.
“Fuck,” he muttered, under his breath.
It sounded like guilt or at least something close enough to pretend that’s what it might be. But it disappeared as fast as it came. Luke shook his head.
“Toughen up,” he muttered. “Can’t expect me to clean up all your messes.”
JJ didn’t say anything. He didn’t argue. He didn’t explain that he’d heard something in his arm snap from his dad’s grip or that his whole body was screaming now and his stomach was turning.
He just nodded, barely but enough and he pretended. Cause that is what he was best at. JJ was fine. His stomach wasn't churning like jello. His arm wasn't on fire and he sure as hell didn't feel like ripping his own skin off.
And most importantly he pretended like he didn’t care if his dad helped him out of this or not.
Because if there was one thing JJ Maybank had learned by thirteen it’s that most of the time…pain hurts a lot less than lost hope.
JJ pretended the whole rest of the ride home but by the time they pulled into the dirt driveway, pretending got really-freaking-hard.
The truck rolled to a stop with a crunch on the gravel and JJ immediately fumbled with the door ready to book it to his bedroom but to his surprise, Luke came around and pulled it open before he could figure out how to get the handle one handed.
“Let’s go,” Luke muttered, almost soft as he grabbed JJ under his good arm.
JJ stumbled anyway, shoes dragging on the way into the door. The pain was blinding. It’d swallowed everything else as he collapsed down onto the stained couch his dad guided him to before he disappeared into his bedroom, muttering something JJ couldn’t make out. Within a minute or two Luke came back with a small plastic tackle box, the one that he didn’t keep the fishing gear in, just his pill bottles, loose cigarettes and folded wads of cash when he had it. JJ watched as Luke rummaged through it, finally pulling out a bottle with the label half-ripped off.
“It’s just like a vitamin,” he told JJ, shaking one into his hand and holding it out. “It’ll help.”
JJ nodded, barely hearing him as he reached out with trembling fingers.
But Luke suddenly pulled back. Not more than an inch but it was enough to make JJ flinch and hiss back in pain as it jostled his arm. Luke’s eyes narrowed, taking in JJ’s face, pale, sweat-soaked, lips tight in a line and tears threatening to fall like he was trying not to scream. Then he sighed and without a word dropped a second pill into his hand for JJ to take.
JJ didn’t hesitate and swallowed them both dry. No questions asked as the bitterness scraped down his throat. He didn’t care what they were. He was desperate. He just needed something to make it all stop.
Luke sank into the couch next to him, rubbing at his face like the whole thing had worn him out.
“You’ll be fine,” he said after a few minutes. “Just don’t make a big deal out of it.”
JJ didn’t talk back, the throbbing was still there, sharp and loud but soon enough there was something fuzzy around the edges of it too.
A little float, just starting to kick in. It wasn't relief yet but maybe the promise of it. Luke kicked off his boots and lit a cigarette.
“You should lie down,” he muttered, glancing sideways at him.
JJ didn’t move much, just slumped down, arm cradled against his chest, and tilted his head back against the couch cushions, blinking slow and heavy.
Luke didn’t say anything else. He didn’t reach out or offer an apology. Just sat beside him, smoking in silence. He stayed close but it wasn't really comfort. But it was something. And that had to be enough for JJ.
Before long, Luke grabbed the remote from the coffee table and punched in a few buttons, landing on some old horror movie with sewer monsters and bad acting, a favorite of Luke’s that JJ didn’t totally get but didn’t question. He laid there still, curling a little on his side as the pain dulled into something more distant. It wasn't gone, but it felt far off, a deep throbbing drumbeat hitting through thick cotton. The pills were working. Or maybe JJ was just too tired to care anymore. But he started to feel alright. The quiet drone of C.H.U.D was the perfect background noise for the static in his brain.
Maybe he did like this movie after all.
And once, Luke wasn’t yelling at him. He was just...there as JJ closed his eyes and his breathing evened out.